My family and I (that sounds like an odd way to say "Lily, Judah, and me") were strolling down the Venice boardwalk the other day and we stopped to get some fries. Not the regular stick-fries. Not those wedge fries. But fries that were discs, like the potatoes were sliced then fried. Damn good.
While we were waiting in line for the fries, the drone of a man speaking loudly boomed behind us.
"Smoke marijuana. It will bring you health and vitaility."
The man's cadence was like a preacher's. Preachin' to the choir out on Venice beach apparently. Between every verse, the man played a few notes on a cheap plastic flute.
"Smoke marijuana. Through bong, pipe or blunt."
A few more flute notes.
"I know I'm not the only chronic smoker out here..."
He stood on a green milk crate while addressing the passers by. None of them seemed to pay attention, but some guys in line next to me were riveted by what the preacher said. As if they'd never heard of this magical marijuana before. The milk crate preacher continued:
"Before I smoked marijuana, I was sick. Now I smoke marijuana daily and I feel better than I have in my entire life."
A few more flute notes.
My fries finally arrived in the pick-up window, and I doused a little corner of the plate with ketchup.
"Smoke marijuana."
I wondered what this guy was hoping to gain by wasting his breath preaching instead of taking major bong loads. Shut up and smoke marijuana, dude!
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